Girl, Interrupted

So I always tell myself that I will blog about moments like these, and then forget because they're not ALL that memorable. But at the time, they're so annoying it's almost funny. It's those moments that I think, "C'mon, really? Did this all just happen?" Nothing catastrophic, mind you. I'm talking about the moments that happen right when I'm thinking to myself, this is a pretty good day so far--no tantrums, no blowouts--basically no undesirable events taking place.

It was a surprisingly cool day (by September standards in AZ, that is) and so we stopped by sonic for some drinks and then went to the park next to our local library. Jack ran around with some kids, chased birds and got some energy out while I looked on and played with Jane in the shade of a tree. The wind was blowing, I had an ice cold diet coke in my hand and it was almost time to go home for naps. A mother's paradise in a nutshell.

We walked to the library from the park to get some books and quickly left to head home. Birds were chirping and the breeze was flowing over my face and I thought this day couldn't get much better: well-behaved kids, nice weather and naps fast-approaching.

We got to our car which was parked next to a curb and I turned to open Jack's door and let him in. That's when I heard a boom and looked over to see that Jack had tripped over the curb because he was so focused on enjoying his limeade from Sonic. He took a spill into the dirt and his drink was no more. When he realized that his slushie was gone, he let out the loudest cry I have ever heard. An angry cry that garnered looks from every passerby and one that could not be consoled. You'd have thought I was pulling his hair or something.

I felt bad for him--it's like licking a new ice cream cone, only to have the whole ice cream part fall off the cone onto dirty ground. As I tried to make him feel better by showing him the maraschino cherry that I'd salvaged, I put the cup in the cup holder of the stroller so I could wipe his muddy hands for him to hold the cherry. But then, out of nowhere, a ton of bees smelled the sweet mess and swarmed the cup.

Jane just sat there, unaware that she was quickly becoming a hive to these pests and Jack was screaming, partly out of fear of being stung, but also out of fear of losing that precious cherry, which was in the bottom of the empty cup. I tried to maintained my cool, but I can't handle bees. I started screaming like I was running on hot coals.

I pondered what to do, all the while the group of bees getting bigger and I realized that I had no choice but to sacrifice the cherry and just throw the whole darn cup, lid and straw as far from us as possible. (I don't condone littering, let me tell you--but I had no choice.)

So I did it, and Jack let out a wail when he spotted the cherry lying on the ground 10 feet from us.

I quickly threw everyone and everything in the car and closed the doors as fast as I could, afraid that the bees were coming for us.

My peaceful afternoon had come to a halt and the drive home was deafening with the moaning of a disappointed 3-year-old and a tired baby.

Paradise lost...then found again at nap time.